Twenty one years ago I became a Christian. I wasn’t born into a family that embraced Christianity. In fact, our elders practiced ancestral worship and visited Chinese temples to pray on festival days.
From a young age, I followed my maternal grandmother whenever she went to the temple to pray. She taught my siblings and I how to pray and what to say in our prayers during ancestral worship at home. Ancestral worship was a way of life for us.
As we grew up, one of my sisters was introduced to a friend whose family encouraged her to attend church services and soon after, she became a Christian. Then two other siblings also got baptized. My late mother became a Catholic when she was in her late sixties, a long-cherished wish of hers, after my father gave his permission for her to do so.
She taught me to say “Hail Mary” and to pray from young. Her faith was very strong. However, I continued to practice ancestral worship as did my brothers.
How then did I become a Christian?
When my mother and my two Christian sisters were suddenly stricken with deadly cancers, it dawned upon me that their Christian God, the ever-loving God, was not a loving God at all. How could He be Love if he at one stroke had condemned His three children ( Christians are children of God, I was told ) to a slow painful death, especially when one of them still had young children who needed her?
My fears, my anger, my rage at this Christian God and how these evolved into my accepting Christ is documented in my memoir “The Wayward Sheep. My Journey to Salvation and God’s Love”. God works in strange ways. You can find my book HERE.